The Wind Lord's Companion
by Grave Bells
Summary: Baljeetolas had been promised to the Wind Lord since before he was born. Now, it was time to be collected. Set in the Excaliferb AU. Friendship; no pairings. R&R.


_**The Wind Lord's Companion**_

Nerdlings were often sent away when they became of-age.

They were a race of people who willingly served; whether it be another being or the good of all people. Nerdlings were responsible for most advancements in anything. All doctors were Nerdlings, all inventors were Nerdlings; anything that required a high cranial capacity was done by Nerdlings. It's that simple. They were often sent away to Lords and Kings as advisors and wisemen. When it really came down to it, Nerdlings were the ruling race, and they were smart enough to hide in the shadows of their employers in case anything went sour.

Baljeetolas knew all of this; he'd been told of the great things and ideas his people had imagined and done. He'd soaked up everything told to him. He was knowledge-thirsty, which made him to potentially become one of the greatest Nerdlings of the ages.

If had hadn't been promised to the Wind Lord, of course.

Baljeetolas had also been told since he was a boy that he'd been a promised gift to the Wind Lord, and that when he reached 16 he'd be sent to live with him for good. The Wind Lord had saved Baljeetolas's parents from certain doom, and as a way to show their profound gratitude, they offered to present him with their first born son. It saved he Wind Lord the task of picking and choosing a Nerdling for himself when his own son became of-age, and this way he could have the Nerdling groomed to better serve his family.

And groomed he was.

Aside from the normal Nerdling schooling, Baljeet was taught the politics and the ways of the Wind people. They were generally secluded from the people of their world, but their control of the weather made their race indispensable. The Wind Lord ruled them with an iron fist. There were set rules on weather patterns, and if they strayed, there would be hell to pay.

On Baljeetolas's 16th birthday, a carriage arrived to the Nerdling Realm. After a brief goodbye to his parents, he curled his legs beneath him in the entrance hall of the Nerdling Palace, and waited. His back was straight and proud, his bow clenched in his fingers on his knees, his quiver of arrows lying by his tucked shins.

He was terrified.

He had never met the Wind Lord, but he had heard fearsome things about him. He was big and menacing, with a stare that could strike you down in an instant.

He was told he'd be inspected and quizzed; he needed to be worthy of the Lord's land and rule. His long platinum hair (a sign that he'd already been claimed by the Wind Lord; the color was strange for his race, and it signified the winter) was properly and neatly slicked back, and cut in a perfect line in the back. Not one hair could be out of place, for he must be perfect. His garb was traditional formal-wear of the Nerdling people, but his cape was secured around his neck with a specially crafted leaf, to signify the autumn.

He looked presentable enough, and he would know all the answers to the questions, but Baljeetolas also knew he was absent-minded. He'd lose his head if it wasn't attached to his body. It took him hours to find his bow and quiver this morning, despite them being his most treasured items. It seemed to him that the only time he was not losing things was when he was using his arrows. He predicted that his incredible skills as an archer would keep him from getting returned once the Lord knew of his forgetful tendencies.

The young Nerdling waited an hour on his knees for the Wind Lord to arrive at the Palace. Despite his nervousness, Baljeetolas was getting extremely impatient. And stiff.

When the doors finally opened to reveal his new master, Baljeetolas immediately bowed his upper body to the floor in respect. He could heard the heavy footsteps of the man he would soon belong to, and it was all he could do not to stutter when he had to introduce himself.

"Greetings, fair Wind Lord. I am Baljeetolas of the Nerdling Realm," he greeted, projecting so the sound would carry to the surely large man's ears. "I am honored to finally be in your presence."

There was a cold but brief silence.

"Yeah, whatever."

Baljeetolas started. Confused and alarmed, he looked up from the marble floors to stare into the face of a man not but a few years older than himself. He was burly and muscular, with the beginnings of a beard and a look that said he was incredibly peeved to be there, but he was not the massive and feared man he'd expected. He blinked several times, his chestnut eyes shimmering in his confusion.

Rolling his strikingly green eyes, the man rotated his hand on his wrist.

"Hello, Baljeetolas," he began to recite uninterestedly, "My name is Bufavulous."

The Nerdling started again. _The Wind Lord's name was Kontankerous._ He could feel his heart speeding up; who was this man and why was he here? He was not his master.

"Unfortunately, I'm the Wind Lord, and I've been commanded to come retrieve what is apparently rightfully mine, even though I give about 4 shits about whatever this agreement is."

"No, no," Baljeetolas said quickly, shaking his head. "No, I was told the Wind Lord was the same age as my parents, he – he saved them before I was born. They promised my servitude to Kontankerous."

Something twitched on the other man's face. _Disapproval. _"My father is dead. I was forced to take the throne in his absence."

The shock and shame upon the archer's face made the young Lord groan unpleasantly. Baljeetolas quickly ducked back into his low bow, horrified with himself and his actions and his questions.

"I am so sorry. I am sorry, I was not informed of his passing, I would not have been so rude if-"

"Could you stop with the bullshit? I only came here to retrieve you because my hard-ass Mother was going to kill me if I didn't. I don't care that you weren't expecting me; I'm what you get and that's that."

Bufavulous turned and started back out of the palace, his heavy boots thumping atop of polished marble. He looked back at Baljeetolas, who upon hearing him leave began to get to his feet.

"And don't be so goddamn polite. If I have to take you with me, I don't want a drone. I want a Nerdling."

Without another word, the young Lord exited the Palace.

Baljeetolas followed him like a faithful puppy, his quiver of arrows slung across his back and his bow still clutched in his fingers. If he hadn't been nervous before, he was nervous now. He hadn't even been with the Wind Lord five minutes and he'd already been scolded. As he approached the elegant carriage that would take him away to his new home, he smiled lightly and waved goodbye to the people he'd grown to love. He was off to begin a new journey, and the familiar faces were not coming with him.

He yelped when he suddenly crashed into something big and soft. After stumbling back, he realized it was Bufavulous's backside, and he immediately scrambled to apologize. Shit, he was already absent-minded.

"I am so sorry, my Lord, I did not mean to-"

"Didn't I tell you to stop being so _fucking_ polite?" the Wind Lord snapped, looking over his shoulder at his new companion. He looked even more enraged than he did upon his arrival, and Baljeetolas could only recoil slightly nodded sheepishly.

"Get in the carriage. _Now_."

The Nerdling scrambled, his platinum hair whipping about as he practically jumped into the horse-drawn vehicle. Bufavulous climbed in after him, and they were off.

The journey was quiet for several hours. The air in the wooden box was heavy and tense and strangely _emotional_, but the only sound was the clack of two trotting horses and the crunch of dirt and leaves. Baljeetolas had dozed on and off for the first three hours, and when the fourth rolled around he was quietly staring out the window at the passing scenery longingly. He would probably never go back home.

Bufavulous shuffled in his seat.

"Hey, Nerd. C'mere."

The archer blinked and turned to look at the Wind Lord. His voice had been quiet and forlorn, and to look upon him now made something clench in the younger man's chest. Bufavulous was slouched over and his face was twisted in sorrow, and in his hands sat a sturdy oak box. Without having to be asked twice, Baljeetolas stood and took his place next to the bigger man.

Large thumbs danced over the top of the box.

"Before we left, the driver informed me that my mother's illness had gotten worse. She's not expected to make it in time to see me home with you."

Baljeetolas felt his perfect posture slouch slightly, and he bit at his caramel colored lips.

"I… I am very sorry."

Bufavulous's lips twitched into a smirk for only a moment at his politeness, but he continued as if Baljeetolas had never spoken.

"The Wind Lady is supposed to crown the new Advisor," he said, flipping up the golden latch on the box. "But I'm not married, and I don't wanna be married, so she was supposed to do the honors."

The Nerdling continued to chew at his lip, unsure of how to respond. He looked down at where he'd neatly folded his hands in his lap, but remained quiet.

"Seein' as she will be… gone before we are home…" It was hard for Bufavulous to contain the sorrow in his voice at this, but he was determined to remain strong, "I guess I will have to do it myself."

He opened the box.

Inside, perched upon a bed of crushed white velvet, was a delicate circlet made of bright red copper. It was nondescript; a simple circle of metal that, at the center, pressed into a small triangle housing an equally triangular ruby. He gently pulled it from the plush with his fingers, then set the box aside. Baljeetolas watched with barely masked awe as it was held out to him.

Bufavulous cleared his throat of the emotional knots forming. "Now lessee if I can remember this shit correctly…

Baljeetolas of the Nerdling Realm, by accepting this Circlet of Fire you are agreeing to bear the burden of Royal Advisor to the Bufavulous the Wind Lord. You will bear this, the mark of the Summer, upon your head at all times, to signify your position amongst the rest of world. To remove it would be to denounce your position. Do you agree?"

Stunned, the Nerdling stared down at the circlet.

"I... I do not really have a choice."

Bufavulous narrowed his eyes menacingly, as if he'd been insulted.

"Of course you have a choice," he snapped, "If you don't want to be my Royal Advisor then don't take it. It's as simple as that. You don't hafta do shit."

Blinking and understandably taken aback, Baljeetolas's eyes darted between the Lord's face and the circlet for several moments. He was born because of this man's father. He was promised to his family, and he had vowed to serve them with loyalty until the day he died.

"I accept."

Something almost unnoticeable lighted the Wind Lord's eyes, as if one of his many burdens had been lifted, and he delicately placed the circlet upon the Nerdling's bowed head.

There was a tense moment between them once Bufavulous had let go, where something breezy seemed to hum between them before settling in their chests. It forced Baljeetolas to sigh, and after a moment a wave of exhaustion washed over him. When he slumped, the Lord snickered lightly.

"You're weak, aren't you?" he asked, a smirk on his wide, thin lips. "That was a Wind Bond; your acceptance as my advisor was sealed by an exchange of oxygen. Basically, we took each other's breath away." He slouched against the cushion at his back. "… But if _that_ wore you out, you're going to need way more training. Just being near the Weather Makers is going to drain you. Ugh, so wimpy."

"Yes well, I did not _ask_ to never be conditioned to magic, _thank you_," Baljeetolas snapped before he could catch himself. He was momentarily horrified with himself again, until Bufavulous barked a laugh and scratched at his rather short beard.

"Thank god you stopped bein' so damn polite," he mused, glancing out the window on his right.

The carriage grew quiet once again.

Baljeetolas had begun to doze before either of them spoke, so the sound of Bufavulous's baritone timbre startled him out of his light slumber.

"As your first order of business," the Wind Lord started, not making eye contact. His voice had softened again. "Advise me on how to begin to deal with my mother's passing."

The Nerdling blinked, then wilted a little. "Well," he began quietly, twiddling his thumbs. "The first thing you must do is accept the fact that she is, or will be, gone. It will hurt, but, it will pave the way for a new beginning."

"But I don't want her to die too," something cracked in Bufavulous's voice, and the archer realized that his master had only just become an adult like him. But he hadn't been groomed to separate from his family like Baljeetolas had; he wasn't ready to go it alone.

"You cannot stop death, my Lord." When the brunette didn't respond, Baljeetolas smiled softly. "When I was a boy, I was very attached to the family pet. I know it is nothing like your parent, but the day I found him lying on the kitchen floor on the brink of death, my mother place my head in her lap and whispered sweet things to me about how it will all be better when he finally goes. By the time he finally passed, I had accepted that he was no longer suffering, and in a better place. It did not stop the hurt, but… It certainly helped."

There was a long moment when the Nerdling thought he'd said something wrong, but then he suddenly found his lap being used as a pillow. Bufavulous kept his face turned away to hide is shame, but Baljeetolas could tell by the way he was gripping the seat that he needed a comfort like that.

And so, with a warm burn in his chest, Baljeetolas lightly played with the messy hair around the Wind Lord's ears and whispered gentle stories to him about the things his mother would do upon passing. Just to reunite with her husband would be a great joy, and to finally be free of the sickness holding her down would be so very uplifting. She would watch her wonderful son grow into the best Wind Lord she'd ever seen, and be thankful to know she could still watch over him from the afterlife. It was strange, he supposed, telling a man he'd only just met these kinds of things. He himself had never been one of a nurturing nature, but he had always had a fondness for assisting those in need. And when Bufavulous fell asleep, he'd known he'd done his job well.

The rest of the journey to the Wind Lord's home was long but enjoyable, and it would be the first of many adventures the two companions would take in their lifetime together.

* * *

><p>AN: Man, I had the craziest urge to write about this AU. It was so bad I couldn't ignore it. I hope it was all you your liking~


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